Mothers
by Drollittle
Summary: After the end of DH, Lily Potter reflects on the influence nine women have had on her son.


Mothers

Lily sat next to the open curtains of Harry's four-poster bed, wishing her fingers had the substance to brush aside a bit of hair that was stuck to his forehead. Hermione (wonderful, reliable Hermione) had done a reasonable job cutting it for him a few months ago while they were in hiding, but he was badly in need of another haircut.

_Really, that's silly, _she told herself, _thinking about his hair at a time like this._

Lily didn't usually hover about like a ghost; she and James had their own adventures to focus on; but they had disapparated right out of Professor Nanak's advanced Ethics class when Harry called them with the resurrection stone. They had all watched him until after Voldemort was destroyed. Then Sirius, Tonks and Remus went out to fling comets, Albus had to attend a meeting for the Order of Merlin, Severus had been carried away by a few healers to get the knots in his soul loosened out (Lily refused to say more than 'thank you' to him until that was done) and everyone else had dispersed to various errands of sea mist or constellation.

James had stayed watching with Lily until Harry came up to his dormitory to sleep, and then he had gone to join Sirius and Remus. Lily knew she had Quantum Physics homework to finish, an exoplanetary flower garden to tend, and lots of friends to catch up with, but she had eternity for that. She was still watching Harry sleep.

The dormitory door opened slowly, and Lily turned to see Molly Weasley and Minerva McGonagall, looking relieved.

"Oh, Ron was right, Harry is here. Asleep, poor dear."

"I don't know if I would call him a poor dear, Molly. That young wizard is _fierce_."

They were both right, of course.

"Well, we all had to be fierce last night, didn't we?"

"Lamentably, yes, but Potter—ever since his first year—hasn't let anyone get away with aggravating him. Just ask Draco Malfoy for proof of that."

Lily winced. A wizard's duel in the middle of the night, of all the ridiculous...and one would think the very sound of the word 'sectumsempra' would have warned Harry to avoid the horrid spell. Lily had stood behind every word Minerva had said to him on that and a few other occasions. After it all, though, Harry had saved Draco from the fiendfire, and Lily was intensely proud of him.

"Malfoy...I spoke to Narcissa Malfoy..." Said Molly, "about what happened out there in the forest. Can you believe that Harry walked out there on his own and survived the killing curse _again_?"

"I certainly don't understand how. According to Albus it was Lily's sacrifice for him that saved him as a child, but how did he do it again, and how did _he_, I mean Voldemort," Minerva said stiffly while Molly shuddered, "fail to realize that Harry was alive?"

"That was Narcissa. He ordered her to check Harry's body, and she could tell he was alive but lied to...Vv...Voldemort, to get to the castle and find Draco."

"Lied directly? That is an impressive move, for little Cissy Black."

"But to save her son; I would have done the same."

Minerva nodded, and they stood in the doorway for another moment. Minerva looked up and down and frowned.

"I will have to think of a way for the students to earn their NEWTs next year...these dormitories are not built for eight years of students. Are you planning to take Potter to live at the Burrow?"

"Of course. He's going to need a real home for a while, until he moves off on his own. I'm sure he'll never go back to those muggles."

"No indeed. Albus sent me twice to Arabella Figg's house when she was watching him as a boy. He nearly pulled my tail off, but I was surprised that he could be as healthy as he was, considering how little that Petunia woman fed him."

Lily shook her head. Whatever people might say about Petunia—whatever Petunia herself might say—Lily didn't think it was possible for anyone to look after an active toddler day and night without some degree of love. Lily had always tried desparately to see the best in her sister, and hopefully her love for both Petunia and Harry had helped a little, through those early years.

Molly took a few steps in to the room. "Poppy ought to come up and take care of these cuts and bruises for him, oughtn't she?"

"He will go to her when he wakes up. He's developed quite a trust in Poppy through all his years of Quidditch injuries and misadventures. If he forgets, I think your youngest will remind him." The corner of Minerva's mouth twitched.

"She very well might, Minerva, and you needn't laugh." Molly whispered. "Ginny is quite a natural at dealing with reckless boys. If you ask me, Harry needs her. Now, do you think we ought to wake him for lunch?"

Minerva raised her eyebrows. "_Draco dormiens nunquam titilandus_. If he is still sleeping I imagine he still needs to sleep, and I don't intend to be hovering over him when he wakes up."

Molly sighed. "No, I suppose he wouldn't like that...but he _is_ such a dear boy..." Molly stepped toward Harry's bed again, but hesitated. Lily could tell that she was thinking of brushing the hair off Harry's forehead.

_Go ahead,_ Lily prompted, _he won't wake_. With that reassurance, Molly quietly came in beside Lily and swept the bit of hair to the side with her finger. She looked at Harry's face with determined gentleness.

Lily smiled. Harry would be fine. She decided to go see if James had taught Remus how to put a good curve on a comet. As she passed through the ceiling, she heard Molly and Minerva talking.

"I'm going to give him a proper haircut tomorrow."

"Really, that's silly, Molly...thinking about his hair at a time like this..."


End file.
